


baby, it's written in the stars

by mikkary



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alucard is... a morosexual?, First Dates, Humor, M/M, and that's valid, he's just a gemini, trevor belmont isn't actually stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkary/pseuds/mikkary
Summary: “You’ve got to be a model. Or, hmm, fashion designer, maybe.” Trevor puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his hand, eyeing Adrian. “Final Fantasy cosplayer.”Adrian takes a very long sip of his drink, wishing it was stronger. He should have just ordered the Long Island iced tea like Trevor had, classy or not. “I’m finishing my PhD,” he says with great dignity. “I’m an astrophysicist.”Trevor gives him a blank look, then nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’m a Gemini.”





	baby, it's written in the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wisp_the_Willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wisp_the_Willow/gifts), [mysweetbologna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysweetbologna/gifts).



> me: i can't believe i'm going to write a whole fanfic inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/choutarouootori/status/1146817494541193216).  
> dani and kristen: you don't have to  
> me: no, i'm gonna

Adrian Tepeş meets Trevor Belmont at a bar. It’s unusual to meet people like that nowadays, at least for Adrian, who finds the majority of his hook-ups online. But Trevor Belmont is an unusual person. He’s already the tallest person in the bar, taller even than Adrian, and he’s got a _presence_ that creates an open space around him even at the crowded bar.

Adrian moves towards him like a moth to a flame. He’d just wanted a drink after a long day in the lab, but if this is what the universe is offering him tonight, he’s hardly going to refuse. He manages to insinuate himself at the counter next to the big man, and smirks a little as he feels the weight of his regard.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” the man says, which, okay, is a stupid line, but he’s got an amazing deep voice that sounds like honey and makes Adrian’s toes curl a little bit. “Come here often?”

“Yes,” Adrian says honestly.

“Huh. Well. Can I buy you a drink?”

 _Excellent_ , Adrian thinks. “Only if you tell me your name,” he says.

“Trevor Belmont,” the man says, turning to Adrian and holding out a big (!) hand for him to shake.

Adrian takes it. Trevor’s hand is warm and dry and callused and, again, _very_ big. It makes Adrian feel slim and delicate in comparison, which is a feeling he doesn’t get very often, because he’s tall and broad-shouldered too. Trevor is just _huge_. “Adrian Tepeş.”

“Tepeş?”

Adrian shrugs. “It’s Romanian. I’ll have a Moscow mule.”

“So.... what do you do for a living?” Trevor asks when they settle into a booth with their drinks. 

He’s _huge_ , Adrian thinks again. Trevor’s broad shoulders practically fill up the whole booth alone, and his presence seems to suck some of the air out of the room. Or maybe that’s just Adrian getting a little breathless at the thought of those big hands on his body, and that undoubtedly big–

“Uh,” Adrian says intelligently.

“No, wait, let me guess.” And Trevor’s dark eyes fix on Adrian, and Adrian _knows_ he’s getting checked out for probably the fifth time in the past ten minutes. He straightens up a little bit and matches Trevor’s smirk with one of his own.

Everything about Trevor promises absolutely _filthy_ things later, if Adrian can just get through this stupid conversation. Honestly, even if Trevor turns out to be a creepy axe murderer, there’s still a 75% chance that Adrian will end up going home with him. What can he say? He has a type, and it’s sitting right in front of him.

“You’re a model,” Trevor declares.

Adrian blinks. Oh, right, they’re playing that stupid guessing game. Still– “What?”

“Blonde, long hair, pouty lips, dressed like that...” Trevor gestures at him.

“Dressed like _what_?” Adrian interrupts, and is ignored.

“You’ve got to be a model. Or, hmm, fashion designer, maybe.” Trevor puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his hand, continuing to eye Adrian. “Final Fantasy cosplayer.”

“I– _what_?” Conceptually, Adrian has nothing against models or fashion designers or, or cosplayers, even, but… “Because I’m _blonde_?”

“And gorgeous.”

Adrian takes a very long sip of his drink, wishing it was stronger. He should have just ordered the Long Island iced tea like Trevor had, classy or not. “I’m finishing my PhD,” he says with great dignity. “I’m an _astrophysicist_.”

Trevor gives him a blank look, then nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’m a Gemini.”

Oh, Adrian thinks. Not an axe murderer. Just… _stupid_.

*

“And then we went to my place and had sex,” Adrian concludes with a deep and long-suffering sigh.

Sypha frowns at him. “Wait. You spent _twenty minutes_ going through _every moment_ of your date, and you’re only spending five seconds on the actual sex? That’s it? Was it good? Mind-blowing? Was his dick as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” Adrian says mournfully.

“And the sex?” Sypha prompts.

“Good.” And it _had_ been good. Trevor had lived up to the promise in his filthy smirk, and then he’d left before Adrian had woken up, which was another mark in his favor. But he’d also written his phone number on Adrian’s whiteboard, on _top_ of the equations that Adrian had spent the last three days deriving. Adrian still hasn’t decided how angry he wants to be about that.

Sypha narrows her eyes at him. “So what’s the problem? Why did you call me out here to act like you’re dying? You're not the only one who has a dissertation to finish, you know.”

Adrian gives a heavy sigh. “I just– I’ve never had sex with somebody so _stupid_ before,” he says, and finishes his drink. Gin and tonic is his poison of choice for today; Sypha is drinking, as usual, an old-fashioned. “I’m having an existential crisis.”

Empathetic and understanding as always, Sypha rolls her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Adrian sighs again, more emphatically. “Sypha, an existential crisis is–”

“No,” Sypha cuts him off. “What do you mean, you’ve never had sex with somebody so stupid before? Adrian, you literally go around having sex _only_ with stupid people. That’s your type.”

Adrian sighs for a third time, _very_ loudly, and stares out across the bar.

“He told me he’s a freelancer, but I don’t even know what he’s freelancing. He has a degree in sports management,” Adrian says later, after ordering his third gin and tonic. “What even _is_ sports management? What is there to _manage_?”

“Clearly nothing, since he’s a freelancer,” Sypha retorts. She ordered a third old-fashioned as well. “You’re buying the drinks, don’t forget. You owe me for this.”

Adrian ignores her. “Do you… Is it coaching? Is it a fancy word for coaching? Is it the equipment? Do you have to count the balls before every game?”

“Don’t start talking about balls already,” Sypha says with great affected weariness as the bartender places their drinks in front of them.

“Also,” Adrian says after his fourth gin and tonic, when there’s a break in the conversation and Sypha has started drawing absentminded patterns in the condensation on her glass, “astrology is nonsense. It doesn’t make any sense to think that your life is ruled by the stars. And it’s pointless and shallow to even keep track of your star sign.”

Sypha sighs and slumps down to rest her cheek on her arm against the bar. “Oh Adrian,” she says. “You’re such a Virgo.”

*

Adrian decides that, while he’s very annoyed Trevor wrote his phone number on his whiteboard across days of hard work, he’s still going to use it. Graduate school is stressful, after all. And he’s had a very long week. This time, though, he makes sure to take a photo of his work on the whiteboard before Trevor arrives, just in case Trevor finds another way to mess up his calculations.

They decide on dinner and a movie. Trevor will bring the movie and the booze. He offers several movie suggestions – they’re all awful-looking B-movies in the horror genre, with terrible special effects. Adrian, who is proud of his growing collection of Criterion DVDs, picks one at random.

Trevor suggests they order pizza. Adrian, a health-nut vegetarian flirting with veganism, agrees.

Look, when he indulges, he indulges all the way. And maybe Sypha was right in saying that he only fucks stupid people, but that’s because when he has sex, he doesn’t want to be thinking about all the other things he normally dwells on during the day. It’s about escaping. Relaxing. Not having to act like somebody who knows everything; not having to think about impostor syndrome. Being with someone who doesn't care about whether Adrian actually knows what he's talking about when he discusses binary star systems with different spectral classifications on the Hertzsprung-Russell scale.

It’s... a totally healthy way of living life and coping with stress. Definitely.

“For the record,” Trevor says when he shows up to Adrian’s house with a six-pack of beer Adrian never drinks, and a shitty horror movie that Adrian already hates, “I definitely know what an astrophysicist does.”

“Shut up,” Adrian says and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> ♥


End file.
